When I touch this cover now, it's less about Pooh and the gang. Instead it's a tactile whole body memory- the moment I discovered FIRE. THE BOOK I was holding in my hands = magic : A way to be alone and not alone.

Last week, cleaning up in my office, I touched the cover again. A rough cotton feeling. If you look closely, you can see the fibres. I opened the cover. There in the right hand corner, in my grandmother's hand:

Merle Hennigar Fitch. Her hand. Ripples of history. Nostalgia. Yes, am Guilty. Nostalgia.The word has interesting origins, ( see wikipedia) The Swiss and Cooke the Explorer are involved. Started as a medical term meaning a kind of homesickness. My point?

I've heard of the word haptics. I know we can put the tactile in technology. With all the social media we have, there's so many ways to be alone but not alone. But will an e-reader gadget ever bring us home the same way stories in "book" form can? Give us texture? Hmm. I'm sure not sure. That's why I believe THE Book will survive. Might fade a bit like the pencil lead has, but THE BOOK as above will still be here. (I picture a child raised only on e -readers finding his first one in the attic many years later and feeling like I do when I see a slinky. Or Etch-a- Sketch. OR Gumby and Pokey. Cool. Yep. Some fond memories. But not exactly fire.

How long do fingerprints last on books "handed" down. Answer: Eternity.

It's vibrational.

Or maybe just comforting. I touch therefore I am OR:

Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.

"Pooh!" he whispered.

"Yes, Piglet?"

"Nothing ," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw. "I just wanted to be sure of you."